


swipe right for your future

by Cantabo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Online Dating, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Tinder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 07:43:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12601652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantabo/pseuds/Cantabo
Summary: "Let me make you a Tinder."





	swipe right for your future

 

Freshman year was a brand new start for Scott and Stiles, even if they’re only about 20 minutes away from the town they grew up in. University of California, Beacon Hills is a smaller school, containing less than 8,000 students, but it’s beautifully built nonetheless.

That’s one of the main selling points they gave Stiles on the tour, as if Stiles honestly gave a rat’s ass about the red bricks on the buildings. He picked this school because he’s too scared to think of what could happen to his dad’s heart while he’s hours away, and because they have an incredible biomedical engineering program.

Scott came here because he liked their veterinarian program and he got to stay near his mom and Stiles. They’re going to be roommates and everything, and no amount of whining from their parents to branch out could tear them apart from being roommates. Bros gotta stick together, after all.

So naturally, on move-in day, Stiles and Scott are almost vibrating with excitement as they set their stuff down in their dorm. It’s one of the few buildings that’s been recently renovated and they have wood floors and new mattresses. Stiles whoops and flops down on the bottom bunk.

“Duuuude, I wanted the bottom bunk! I don’t want to have to climb to my bed every night.”

“Bro , I called dibs as soon as we got our housing confirmed. You know dibs is sacred.” Stiles is leaning back on his arms and smirking at Scott. Scott’s shoulders slump and he slings his backpack up to the top bunk, grumbling as he climbs the ladder.

“Besides, I like to be the bottom, so it makes sense I’ve got the bottom bunk,” Stiles says, moving as Scott leans over the side of the bed to try and smack Stiles, laughing.

-

Their RA, a terrifying and gorgeous girl named Erica swings by that night, tells them that there’s a floor meeting in five minutes, and then leaves. Stiles and Scott spend the next 4 minutes and 50 seconds playing Mario Kart, until Stiles’ phone alarm goes off.

They head down the hall to where Erica told them to meet, and sit down next to a redhead and a girl with curly black hair. Scott dimples at them both, and the girl with black hair smiles right back at him. _Oh lord._

“Okay, so I got you guys cool welcome gifts, but I left them in my friend’s car, so he’s going to bring them up in a sec. As for this BS meeting, none of us want to be here so let’s make this quick.”

Stiles might be in love with his RA.

“Okay, ground rules. Quiet hours are from 11 to 7, don’t get caught with anything illegal, if you do I am not vouching for your asses. Basically, just don’t be a bunch of dicks.” Erica looks each one of them in the eye with a frankly terrifying glare, and doesn’t let up until the whole floor nods in understanding.

Nevermind, she’s scary.

“Erica, what the hell are you doing?”

Holy god, it’s an actual model.

Holy fucking shit.

He’s wearing a mother fucking leather jacket in August, and he looks good in it, too. He’s got a bag from Ralphs in one hand and a bag from Forever 21 in the other, and he’s frowning. Stiles leans forward a little to get a better look at his face and he’s met with the _eyes of Satan_.

There is pure hellfire burning in his soul, and he looks like he’s going to skin Stiles alive and reenact some fucked up scene from Silence of the Lambs. Stiles’ eyes widen and he leans back, which only makes angry eyebrows guy angrier. He leans forward and glares, and Stiles can’t help but lean back and onto the redheads shoulder.

“I can’t tell if he’s about to fuck you or kill you,” She whispers, and Stiles whips his head around to look at her, a smile breaking out on his face before he can help it.

They’re definitely going to be friends.

-

Stiles’ first two years are a ride. Him and Scott bro it up through freshman year, and become really good friends with Allison and Lydia, the two girls from that first floor meeting. Allison and Scott start dating almost immediately, and that leaves Stiles and Lydia more than enough time to become best friends.

Soon Stiles and Scott have a group formed with Allison, Lydia, and their friends Danny and Jackson. Jackson and Lydia have some weird past, but Lydia seems to be over it and Stiles is pretty sure Jackson and Danny are fucking (along with some guy named Ethan who randomly shows up and is never wearing a shirt), so he decides he just never wants to know about any of it.

Erica ends up being a really cool RA, though. She comes out of her room to yell at the floor when it gets too loud, and one time she came out wrapped in a towel with shampoo running down her neck, which will be forever imprinted into Stiles’ brain.

Her friends are around a lot, though, and they’re all RA’s too. Including that creepy fucker with the Murder Eyebrows. He’s _always_ around. Stiles runs into him at least twice a week. If he’s not at the front desk, he’s coming up the stairs to their floor when Stiles is going to class. If it’s not that, then he’s two treadmills away from Stiles and the Fit  & Rec, or riding his bike violently past Stiles on the way to class.

Stiles is 100% sure that Murder Dude is going to kill him.

As their freshman year ends, Stiles and Lydia look for an apartment with Scott and Allison, and end up splitting the rent of a house four ways. Their sophomore years is more stressful, and they don’t see each other as often, but they all still manage to hang out at least once a week.

Things are harder, but they’re still good. Stiles is still good.

Except, he’s kind of lonely.

Even Lydia has started some odd thing with a guy she met at some fashion week thing on campus. His name’s Isaac and he always makes a face when Stiles wears plaid or is too lazy to put on his contacts and wears his glasses instead.

It’s not that Stiles needs someone to complete him or anything, he likes who he is and he loves his life, but he feels a pang in his chest when he looks at his friends and sees them smile at who they’re with, or when they’re all out of dates and Stiles is on the couch jacking off or watching Say Yes to the Dress.

He’s not _in need_ of someone, not at all. But he’s sort of… in want of someone. Something.

Maybe he just wants to have that kind of connection, too.

Or, maybe he just wants to get laid.

Either is fine.

-

It’s two years after he starts college before anything really happens, though.

Stiles and Lydia are drunk. Not like, shitfaced drunk, but definitely not sober. Stiles wanted Margaritas and Lydia wanted Gin, and somehow they decided that a compromise was shitty, fruity wine and getting really high. They’re both on the floor in their living room, giggling and in their underwear, Bridesmaids playing in the background.

“No, no you don’t- don’t get it Lyds. It’s not that I need to be in a relationship, it’s just that I’m tired of being single,” Stiles says, laying on her shoulder. She runs a hand through his hair and turns to peck him on the forehead.

“Let me make you a Tinder.”

Stiles shoots up to stare at her.

“Come on Stiles. If you don’t like it you don’t have to keep it, but at least try it for a week,” Lydia says, already reaching for his phone.

He decides to just go ahead and let her make one, because she’s right. If he hates it he can just delete the app. Lydia digs through his facebook for a solid ten minutes, while Stiles tries to remember all the words to the Pina Colada Song.

He sort of loses track of time, after that, but at some point she hands Stiles phone back to him, his new tinder profile staring back at him.

It's her proclaimed favorite picture of him, and his bio is surprisingly accurate. 'junior at UCBH, im better at mario kart than u. biomed engineering student, looking 4 someone 2 b the shrek to my donkey.'

Stiles barks out a laugh, unable to help it. Lydia created the perfect Tinder profile for him.

“You are wonderful, I cannot believe you know me this well,” Stiles laughs, flipping through his profile.

“Now, just start swiping. Don’t accidentally super like anyone, and don’t give out your phone number. If you decide to meet anyone, make sure that me or Scott or Allison is there with you. Have fun!” Lydia pats his head as she lazily reaches across him for the bong sitting on the table, lighting it as she inhales. Stiles feels the weed and the alcohol both relaxing him into a gelatinous state of peace and immobility.

He flicks through profiles aimlessly, swiping right or left with no real conviction, but with each match he gets he feels a little better somehow, even though he doesn’t respond to most of the messages he gets.

Lydia takes the phone away from Stiles sometime later, after he’s had more wine and one too many hits. She declares him cross-faded and grounded from his phone, and helps him back to his room. Lydia leaves him on the floor next to his bed, where he falls asleep immediately.

-

Three weeks later, and inexplicably, Stiles still has his tinder profile. Inexplicably still is actively using it. He’s been on a few coffee dates, awkward walks around the town and even one horrendous night at the drive in, where he ended up hiding in Lydia’s car from his date and eating all her popcorn.

Stiles is a block away from the house, almost home from being at the library for his summer class all day, when he swipes and sees it.

It's Murder Eyebrows. He's hot like burning even in his tinder page. His bio reads 'Senior at UCBH, majoring in History. I made this account so my sister would stop setting me up on blind dates. Don't swipe right.'

Holy.

Shit.

Stiles more or less runs the whole way home, and immediately marches to Lydia’s bedroom, where her door is open and she’s curled up in bed with her laptop.

Stiles walks over to her and shoves his phone in her face.

Lydia stares blankly at his phone’s screen before her eyes widen and she rips the phone out of his hands to look at it.

“Holy shit,” Lydia breathes, a smile breaking out onto her face.

“Why are you smiling?” Stiles asks apprehensively. He reaches for his phone, but before he can grab it Lydia swipes right on the screen.

“Lydia!” Stiles shouts, but he falls silent when the screen lights up with the ‘it’s a match!’ screen.

“Well then, I guess we know he was eye-fucking you as opposed to imagining your death,” Lydia says triumphantly.

“What the fuck,” Stiles says, and Lydia laughs at his face.

“Message him, or I’ll do it,” Lydia threatens, and that has Stiles pulling up the messages, hastily trying to avoid Lydia making the situation any worse.

Stiles wonders for a moment what he should say, before Lydia chimes in, her wisdom actually helping for once.

“Be yourself, he’s obviously into you if he swiped right, don’t be someone else. If he’s right for you he’ll like you, obnoxious personality and all,” Lydia says, teasingly poking him and then dodging the arm Stiles swings out to elbow her.

“Yeah, okay. You’re right,” Stiles sighs.

“I always am,” Lydia agrees triumphantly.

**Stiles** : this means we’re married now. where should we honeymoon ??

**Derek** : No.

**Stiles** : babe, we can’t argue with the laws of tinder

**Derek**. What don’t you understand about no?

**Stiles** : the denial of my love is a concept i will never grasp

**Derek** : We are not in love.

**Stiles** : we’re totally in love <3

**Derek** : Shut up.

**Stiles** : don’t be such a sourwolf

**Derek** : That’s not a thing.

**Stiles** : what do you know? maybe a sour patch kid fucked professor lupin and ur their love child

**Derek** : So much of what you just said is wrong for so many reasons.

**Stiles** : and yet ur still here

**Stiles** : because u love me

**Derek** : No.

**Stiles** : denial is not just a river in egypt.

**Derek** : You’re giving me a headache.

**Stiles** : i bet i could make other parts of you react to me ;)

**Derek** : Is that an invitation?

**Stiles** : i guess you’ll have to be less of a sourwolf and find out~

-

And somehow, Stiles and Derek keep talking.

Like, a lot.

**Stiles** : what r ur plans for today?

**Derek** : My sister Laura is visiting this weekend, so I’m stocking up on Advil and Tequila.

**Stiles** : that sounds like every night i have to cram for an exam in o-chem

**Derek** : Why would you willingly subject yourself to Organic Chemistry? Are you a masochist?

**Stiles** : Lyds and i were trying to see who could do better in the class, and im not a masochist but i do enjoy a good spanking every now n then ;)

**Derek** : Stop sending me shit like that while I’m in public.

**Stiles** : u know u love it, i make ur life interesting

**Derek** : Interesting isn’t a word I’d use, but whatever.

-

And after two weeks of talking, Stiles caves and gives Derek his phone number, and naturally things escalate from there even further.

They originally make plans to go to a movie, but Derek texts him for his address and shows up at his house the night before their planned date, with a bag of Taco Bell and a six pack of hard cider.

“You are the love of my life,” Stiles declares, opening the door for him to step inside. Stiles is only half kidding about the love thing, but Derek doesn’t need to know that.

“You sounded stressed out this morning, I thought I’d be nice,” Derek says, and he’s smiling at Stiles, like Stiles is endearing. Stiles texted him and told him he was going to off himself tonight because midterms are kicking his ass. Next thing Stiles knows, he’s opening the door to Derek.

“You’re perfect. Let’s eat in my bed,” Stiles says, pulling him across the living room. Scott and Allison are both asleep on the couch. Scott has an anatomy book covering his face, and Allison is laying directly on top of him, cuddling printouts of a powerpoint.

“That’s probably the most accurate representation of college life that I’ve ever seen,” Derek says, shaking his head and laughing.

“Ignore them, their happiness is disgusting,” Stiles says, waving a hand at them in dismissal. Derek snorts from behind him, but follows him down the hall nonetheless.

They pass by Lydia’s room, and she takes one look at them from her desk and smirks. Derek crinkles his eyebrows, and Stiles yanks him along faster, eager to avoid Lydia and her condescending smirkiness.

Stiles gets Derek in his room and shuts the door, pushing Derek onto the bed. Derek holds the Taco Bell bag and the six pack above his head so they don’t spill. Stiles takes them and sets them on his empty desk, then turns to Derek.

Derek Hale is on his bed, in a grey sweater and soft looking jeans, and Stiles wants to lick every inch of him.

Stiles definitely hustles to his bed, pushing Derek back and climbing onto his lap. Derek’s hands grab his ass, and he smiles up at Stiles.

“Here I thought you wanted to take things slow,” Derek says, but his hands are pushing Stiles’ hips against his, and Stiles can feel Derek’s interest.

“Slow is for snails. Did you think I was texting you about spanking for fun?” Stiles asks, and smiles when Derek’s eyes widen in surprise.

“I guess we’ll have to find out,” Derek agrees, and pulls Stiles in by his neck, kissing him senseless.

-

It’s been two months, and Stiles and Derek are definitely going steady. Stiles isn’t even sure how it happened, but Derek just _fits._ He’s seamlessly slotted into Stiles life, quiet and brooding and making Stiles feel special and cared about.

It’s honestly… kind of amazing.

Stiles has always been a bit cynical about the concept of love, but the way he feels about Derek takes the breath out of his chest. It’s baffling, and Stiles is kind of drunk on how much he loves the feeling.

It’s there when he wakes up from falling asleep at his desk to Lydia letting Derek in his room, and it’s there when Derek picks him up and puts him in bed, and crawls in with him.

It’s there when Stiles cooks dinner for Derek, brings it to him in the dorms and makes him eat while Stiles goes through hundreds of flashcards about empires and dead kings and mythology with him.

It’s there when Derek and Stiles hold each other in the dark, Derek thrusting into him and Stiles crying out, grabbing Derek’s back and biting on his shoulder.

And it’s even there when Stiles and Derek fight, over petty things like where to eat and over bigger things like Stiles’ terrible sleeping habits or Derek’s dismissal of his anxiety, and it’s there when they make up; it’s everywhere and it’s become a part of him.

Derek takes Stiles to his parent’s house for Thanksgiving, an hour out of Beacon Hills, where they own miles of the Preserve. Derek’s sisters grill him and interrogate him, and he wins them both over. Laura enjoys his sense of humor and Cora enjoys his extensive knowledge on all things Game of Thrones related.

Derek’s Mom and trades Stiles her Apple Pie recipe for his Oreo Pumpkin Cheesecake recipe. Derek rolls his eyes as Stiles and his Dad bond over their love for the Mets.

That night Derek kisses Stiles as they curl up in Derek’s childhood bed. Derek holds him and slips a hand under the back of Stiles’ shirt to rest on his lower back, which he knows is Stiles’ kryptonite.

“They like you,” Derek says.

“‘Course they do, everyone likes me. ‘M very likeable,” Stiles agrees, mostly asleep. Derek laughs and pulls him in, tucking Stiles against him as they both fall asleep.

-

Introducing Derek to Stiles’ Dad at Christmas is a whole different ballgame, however.

“You ever been arrested?”

“Uh… What?”

_“Dad!”_

“Shut up, Stiles. I’m doing my job.”

“Dad, your job is to help old ladies get their cats out of trees and arrest teenagers stealing things from WalMart. Don’t interrogate my boyfriend,” Stiles says, glaring at Dad.

“Okay, okay. You’re right. Let’s all eat, I’ll interrogate your boyfriend later,” Dad says, and Stiles groans. Derek nods, like he’s totally okay with being treated like a suspect. What an idiot.

“You should be less okay with all this,” Stiles says, sitting down next to Derek.

“It’’s worth it,” Derek says, shrugging. Dad nods his head in approval and Stiles can’t help but to reach over and kiss Derek on the cheek.

-

And two years, later, a Bachelor’s Degree in both of their hands, they take the 5 hour drive to Los Angeles to try life as grad students in UCLA.

Stiles still feels that intense feeling in his chest when they unlock the front door of their first apartment together, and when they fall asleep together every night.

If Stiles has anything to say about it, it’ll never go away.

**Author's Note:**

> i also made little tinder pages for them. check it out here: http://jordansaysno.tumblr.com/post/167035960999
> 
> hey fun fact, this was inspired by real life experiences, except i never messaged the scary RA and we just make a lot of awkward eye contact now whenever we see each other.


End file.
